


Finding Home

by AmeliaReddy



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Character, Homeless Character, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, No Slash, bisexual oc, matt murdock's sister, matt really needs someone he can't push away, mentions of abuse, sister fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaReddy/pseuds/AmeliaReddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt Murdock and his half-sister need each other more than they realize. Matt welcomes Mia into his home and his heart. Mia struggles to keep her life going in the right direction. When she finds out his secret and her deadbeat dad shows up out of nowhere, can they stick together after being apart for so long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Guess who’s back,” Officer Brett Mahoney cheered as he dragged drunk and battered Mia Bellamy into the police station. 

“Hey, it’s my favorite hotel,” Mia laughed, plopping down in the chair beside Mahoney’s desk. “Book me, concierge.” 

“Look, Mia,” Mahoney sighed, sitting down as well, “we can’t keep doing this.” 

“Are you breaking up with me?” She laughed at her own pitiful joke and then burped. 

“Now’s probably not the best time to discuss this with you,” Mahoney shook his head and closed a file that was open on his desk. “I’m calling your brother.” 

“Aw, no. Matt’s gonna use his judgey tone with me.” 

“You should have thought about that before you got drunk and started yelling at people on the street for wearing purple.” 

“Purple is the color of royalty and there is no place for monarchy in America!” Mia yelled, suddenly overwhelmed with rage.  

“You’re acting crazy. I’m calling Matt.” 

“Ugh, do what you want, Brett.” Mia whipped her head around and looked at the other officers stuck working the night shift. “Hey, Grant, how’s your kids?” Officer Grant looked up from his paperwork to smile at the familiar face addressing him. 

“Hey, Mia! Yeah, Johnny’s doing a lot better. He got home from the hospital just the other day. The doctors think he should be back on his feet in a couple weeks.” Mia smiled a groggy, inebriated smile. 

“I’m glad to hear it. Give him a kiss for me, would ya?” 

“Absolutely,” Grant nodded his head at the young girl and went back to work. Mia returned her attention to Brett Mahoney just as he hung up the phone. 

“Matt’s on his way.” Mia groaned. 

“Awesome.” She twirled around in her seat, trying to find something to do with her hands. “I gotta pee.” 

“Of course you do,” Mahoney almost grimaced. “Come on, you can have your usual cell.” 

“I thought you weren’t booking me!” A sense of betrayal overwhelmed Mia thinking that Mahoney had booked her behind her back. “This is unlawful,” she cried as the officer led her to a cell. “Matt’s gonna sue you for… for something, alright!”

“Relax, Mia,” Brett said. “I’m not allowed to let you use the officer’s bathrooms so you have to pee in a cell.” 

“Oh,” Mia laughed, relieved. “Sure.” Mahoney turned his back as Mia relieved herself, but the woman in the cell next to her was hardly as polite. The scary woman hissed at Mia, who would normally have been frightened, but was far too tired (and drunk) to quite bother. “Enjoy the show, lady,” she mumbled. “What’re you in for?” 

“They think I killed somebody.” 

“Did ya?” 

“You think I’m gonna tell you with the fuzz standing right there?” Mia’s ability to focus on people was severely limited, but she imagined the woman to have dark hair and a face tattoo. 

“Mahoney,” Mia stage whispered. “I need you to leave for a second.” 

“Why?”

“So I can get a confession outta her!” 

“Even if you do, you’re drunk. It would be inadmissible in court.” Mia groaned at him. 

“I have to do this, Mahoney. For myself.” 

“Whatever, Bellamy. Your brother’s probably here, anyway.” Mia waited until the cop was out of eyesight to turn back to the prisoner. 

“Tell me everything.” The supposedly dark haired woman with a possible face tattoo crawled to the bars closest to Mia. 

“Come over here.” Mia, who was still sitting on the toilet, jolted back to life, finishing her business, pulling up her pants, and scooting over to Face Tattoo. The closer she got, the clearer the (now definite) face tattoo became. They were Mike Tyson-style twists and designs.  _ Wait,  _ Mia thought, alarmed,  _ is this Mike Tyson?  _

“Are you Mike Tyson?” 

“That’s real cute,” she huffed. “Real original. Do you wanna hear about my crime or not?” 

“Please tell me,” Mia pleaded, lying on the dirty cement floor, face to face with female Mike Tyson. 

“I grabbed the bitch by the hair and tossed her in the river,” Mike Tyson shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s what killed her, but that’s where they found her body.” 

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Mia nodded. “I’ll never forget you, Mike Tyson.” 

“That’s not my name.” Even if it wasn’t, which Mia was fairly convinced it was, she couldn’t worry about it much longer, because the drinks from earlier that evening were making their way back up her throat and she wasn’t about to fight back. Instead, she crawled back to her stainless steel toilet and let loose. By her second bout, there were big, gentle hands pulling her hair away from her face. 

“Aw, Mia,” the man behind the hands sighed. Mia recognized the voice as that of her brother’s. “Let’s get you home.”  

“Matty, you’re using the judgey tone again.” 

“It’s only because I can’t give you the stink eye.” Mia let out one last, piteous moan before getting to her feet and letting her brother guide her out. 

“Goodbye, Mike Tyson,” Mia called behind her. “Mahoney, that girl is as guilty as they come,” she whispered. 

“Thanks for doing the dirty work, Bellamy. Get sober, would ya?” 

“Miracles are fake, Brett.” 

“Thank you, Officer Mahoney,” Matt said and led his sister out of the department. “We’re going to have to talk about this when you’re sober, you know.” 

“Ugh, pour me another drink.” 

“You can’t avoid your problems forever, Mia.” 

“I sure can try.” Matt sighed again. “Jesus, why does everyone keep sighing at me? No, don’t answer that.” It only took the two a couple blocks to get to Matt’s apartment, and by then he was practically carrying her. 

“I have an image to maintain, you know,” he insisted. “I’m blind. I have to act like it, and carrying you around is kind of a risky move.” 

“I’m sorry, Matty. I can walk by myself.” 

“No you can’t, Mia.” Matt gave up trying to use his cane and decided to just pick his sister up. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” Mia said, reminiscing. “I was seven, I think, and we got put in the same home.” She chuckled and then coughed. 

“That was not the first time we met,” Matt corrected her. “We lived together for a few months when you were a baby.” 

“That doesn’t count,” the younger sister shook her head. “I don’t remember it.”  

“It counts because it was the first time we met.” 

“I disagree,” she shook her head, “because my personality wasn’t fully developed, therefore you didn’t meet  _ me  _ yet.” He laughed. 

“You should be a lawyer.” 

“That’s your job.” 

“Okay, we’re home. I’m going to set you down, but I’ve still got you, don’t worry.” The young brunette nodded and clung to her brother’s neck as he lowered her feet to the ground and then placed his arms under hers. “Just a few flights of stairs. You know the drill.” Mia was excited to be done with all the climbing when she reached his door and then stepped out onto the landing to see… more stairs. 

“I understand why you’re so fit,” she stated. “I would be, too, if I had to climb this much just to get to bed.” 

“It’s not that much.” 

“You’re not allowed to say that. You’re a fitness beast.” When at last they made it to the main level, Matt led his sister to his bedroom and flopped her down. 

“Whatever you say, Mia,” he shook his head. “You stay put. I’m going to go get you a glass of water.” She complied and then rolled to the side of the bed closest to a trashcan. “Smart thinking,” he commended her when he returned. “Here, drink all of this.” 

“But then I’ll have to pee!” He contorted his face into a stern expression. “Okay, I’ll drink it.” She downed the glass and then handed it back. 

“We’re going to have to talk about some things in the morning,” Matt told her as he pulled back his blankets and tucked her in. “So get some rest. You need it.” 

“Thank you, Matty,” Mia whispered. 

“For what?” 

“For always taking care of me.” He smiled softly at his baby sister. 

“It’s my job.” He got up slowly, turned off his bedroom light, and closed the door, but still managed to hear her murmurings as she drifted off to sleep. 

“When we met, you didn’t know what to do with me…”  _ And I still don’t,  _ he thought. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Matthew never quite enjoyed living in an orphanage run by nuns, but then again, he never quite had a choice, and it was better than living on the streets. Every day he’d walk the four blocks to school and walk back when school was over. He always did well in school. _

_ “You get smart so you don’t have to fight, like me.”  _

_ Day in, day out, everything was the same. The only thing that really differed for him was what the sisters made for dinner. He tried to make friends at the orphanage and at school, but that sort of thing never came easily to him. With no parents and no friends, he never got visitors. So when Sister McCarthy knocked on his bedroom door one afternoon and said she had someone that would like to see him, he was more than surprised.  _

_ “I have a visitor? Who would be here to see me?” The thirteen-year-old jolted up in bed, letting his books drop to the floor. In the four years he’d lived without a father, he had only had one visitor: Stick. Stick had taught him valuable things, but overall it wasn’t an experience that he thought of with fondness. _

_ “It’s your sister.” Sister? Matt’s mind raced, trying to remember a sister. Yes, I had one once. But she was just a baby then.  _

_ “My…” Sister McCarthy stepped in and brought with her a small girl. “My sister?”  _

_ “When she was moved here, we saw in her papers you two have the same mother. We had hoped that you would remember her.” This girl had the same dark hair, the same dark eyes, and the same nose as Matthew.  _

_ “Mia!” He grinned, remembering her name. “Your name is Mia, isn’t it?” He’d never had a sister before. He hadn’t had anyone at all in years. The boy was unsure of himself, but he had lived so long without family that he wasn’t about to throw away his shot at one. The girl was small and afraid of Matthew. She hid behind the good sister’s robes.  _

_ “I’ll give you two some time to catch up.” The nun almost smiled and pushed Mia out from behind her skirt before closing the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Matt figured that Mia just needed to warm up to him, so he knelt down to meet her eyes.  _

_ “Hello, Mia,” he began. “My name’s Matt. I’m your brother.” She didn’t respond. He sat down on the floor in front of her. “Well, I’m your half-brother. We have different dads. How old are you?” Lifting her eyes from the ground for the first time, she told him.  _

_ “I’m seven.”  _

_ “You’re seven? Gosh, you’re so old!” A tiny smile cracked the little girl’s scared face and Matt felt his insides begin to soften. “I’m thirteen. I know you don’t remember this, but I knew you when you were a baby.”  _

_ “You did?”  _

_ “Yeah. You lived with my dad and me. Our mom wasn’t around so much. Do you know her at all?” Mia shook her head no. “Would you like to hear about her?” Her small grin turned into an all-out smile as she nodded. “Okay. Why don’t we sit on the bed where it’s more comfortable?” Matt helped his new sister up and they both made themselves comfortable on his bed. “I haven’t seen her since I was about your age, but I remember every detail.” Matthew told his baby sister about their mother’s voice,  her smile, and the way her feet floated over the ground when she danced. He told her stories of them in the park together, her making dinner, and her taking care of him when his dad was out fighting. Mia’s smile never faded.  _

_ “Matt?” Her soft, jingle bell voice asked when he finished.  _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “Why do you wear those glasses?” The older brother’s gentle face didn’t harden for a second. _

_ “I wear them because I’m blind,” he explained.  _

_ “What does that mean?” She wrung her hands as she spoke; an early nervous tick that would never go away.  _

_ “Blind means my eyes don’t work. I can’t see.” He removed his glasses slowly, afraid they would frighten her, but they didn’t. “See?” One, tiny hand raised to brush Matt’s faintly scarred face. He flinched when her cold skin touched his and she pulled her hand away.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  _

_ “No, no, it’s okay,” he shook his head. “I just wasn’t expecting you.” He held his hand out for her to take and, slowly, she did. Matt placed her hand back on his face.  _

_ “How did your eyes stop seeing?”  _

_ “It was an accident,” he explained. “Some chemicals were splashed in my eyes.” The way he said it made it seem like nothing, and perhaps that was for the best.  _

_ “Could that happen to me?”  _

_ “Definitely not,” he assured her, hearing the worry in her voice. “Your eyes are safe.”  _

_ “Is it scary not seeing anything?”  _

_ “It was at first, but I got used to it.” Mia scooted closer to her new older brother and took both of his hands.  _

_ “I’m happy I know you.”  _

_ Matt had never heard such a thing said to him in his whole life. He liked it.  _

_ “I’m happy I know you, too. I’m so glad you got moved here.”  _

_ “Alright, it’s lunch time,” Sister McCarthy returned to Matt’s room. “Come on, children.” Following the good nun, the reunited siblings went to lunch together.  _


	3. Chapter 3

Mia Bellamy awoke in Matthew Murdock’s bed with a splitting headache and a sinking feeling that she most definitely did not want to get up. “Ugh, why did I do that last night,” she groaned, rolling over and pulling the pillow on top of her head. 

“That’s a good question,” her brother answered from the kitchen. Mia’s only response was another groan. “I’m glad you’re awake. Come and have some breakfast. I have to get to work soon.” Begrudgingly, the younger sibling stumbled out of bed and sat down at her brother’s table. “How’re you feeling?” Matt didn’t really need to ask, but he thought it would be best to ease into the topic he needed to bring up. 

“Like shit,” she laughed, digging into the eggs he had made. “But I’ll be okay.” 

“We need to talk about your record with the police,” Matt began. 

“Oh, here we go,” Mia sighed, leaning back. 

“Please, be patient with me. I understand that you’ve had it tougher than me in this aspect, but Mahoney brought up some things with me that we need to address.” 

“Go on,” she waved a sarcastically cordial hand. 

“You roll in and out of that place like they have a revolving door and sooner or later all of these charges are going to add up and the time isn’t going to be community service. If you keep going like this, you’re going to have to serve real time.” 

“I’m not afraid of the big house,” she told her brother, the Murdock Fight lighting her eyes. “I’ve served time before.” 

“We’re just worried about your future,” he explained. “I know this question sucks, but what is your plan?” 

“It’s kind of hard to have a plan when you don’t even have a place to sleep at night,” she spat. It came out harsher than she meant. 

“You can stay here. I’ve told you that before.” Matt hated to think of his little sister alone on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, unprotected and unsheltered, but she wouldn’t let him do anything to fix it. 

“I don’t want to have to live off of your success. I want to make my own way.” 

“And I respect that,” he insisted, “I really do. But I would rather have an alive sister than a totally independent one.” Mia set her fork down and set her eyes on a small pattern on the wooden table that Matt would probably never know was there. 

“I understand where you’re coming from,” she replied calmly, gathering herself. “And normally I would refuse your help, you know that, but I seem to have found myself in a situation that would require me to depend on someone else for a little while.” Her acceptance of his offer shocked him so much that he almost didn’t hear why.  _ Almost.  _

“What’s going on?” Matt was all ears. 

“You know how I’ve been playing music in clubs and stuff around Manhattan?” He nodded. “And do you remember that agent that I had who negotiated the money for me?” He nodded again, this time slower. He knew where this was going. “Well, I started double checking the bills, just because some things started to feel wrong, and I think she’s been ripping me off.” 

“How much?” Mia could tell that her brother had gone into lawyer mode. 

“I get seventy percent of shows, she gets twenty, and an extra ten percent goes to “travel expenses.” Only, I pay for travel out of pocket. There’s no fund for it.” 

“You think your manager is embezzling that extra ten percent?”

“I think so, but I couldn’t find much proof. I confronted her, but she’s good. You taught me how to fight with words, but she’s better than I’ve ever been. She got me all turned around and saying things I never meant. That’s why I went drinking last night. I didn’t want to have to deal with it.” Matt sat for a moment, thinking things over. Slowly, Mia picked her fork back up and began eating again. 

“When you’re done eating, why don’t you come into work with me?” She eyed Matt suspiciously. “Do you have that paperwork you talked about?” 

“I do. Are you taking my case, Murdock?” 

“I am, Bellamy.” 

“Well, this should be fun.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Okay, top ten worst meals you’ve had in New York,” Foggy said, sliding out of his small office on a wheeled chair, coming to an ungraceful stop in front of Karen. 

“What’s with all these top ten lists?” Karen asked, closing a file to look at her friend and colleague. “First it was superheroes‒”

“Benjamin Franklin still doesn’t count,” Foggy interjected. 

“‒and now it’s meals.” The secretary shot a glare at the lawyer. “And Benjamin Franklin is a national hero, thank you.” 

“I agree, but I asked for  _ super _ heroes.” 

“What are you two bickering about?” Matt asked, a smirk on his face as he came through the door. 

“I asked Karen to list her top ten favorite superheroes and she said Benjamin Franklin as her number one,” Foggy explained. 

“He  _ is  _ a national hero,” Matt shrugged, leaving the door open behind him and going to hang up his coat. Mia stepped in slowly and uncertainly. Two pairs of eyes settled on her and she wanted to shrink under their gazes, but stood up straighter and smiled. 

“Hi, I’m Mia. I’m Matt’s sister.” The twenty-two year-old stuck out her hand to shake, first to Foggy, who was closest. 

“We met once, I think,” Foggy nodded, rising from his chair. “Any sister of Matt’s is a sister of mine,” he grinned and pulled her in for a hug. 

“Okay,” Mia laughed, gladly accepting the hug. When Foggy released Mia, she reached back to shake Karen’s hand. 

“I’m Karen,” she introduced herself. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mia smiled. 

“At the risk of sounding ungrateful to see you, what’re you doing here?” Foggy asked. 

“She’s our new client,” Matt announced, coming up behind her and setting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Uh oh,” Foggy’s face turned to a frown, “what’d you do?” 

“Nothing!” She knew she had a reputation (founded and built in fact) but she couldn’t help be defensive. 

“She’s telling the truth,” Matt admitted. “She’s been making her way by playing clubs around Manhattan and her manager’s been cheating her out of ten percent.” 

“Well, that’s awfully rude,” he scoffed. “Do you have any evidence?” 

“I have some bills with me, divvying up how much goes where. We’ll have to get the actual contract from her to make sure and I’m going to have to prove that I’ve been paying for travel out of pocket.” 

“Seventy percent goes to Mia, twenty to her manager, and ten for travel expenses, but she pays for that herself,” Matt explained. 

“I love a good fraud case,” Foggy cried, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get to work.” The two went to their respective offices, not needing to communicate their duties to each other; they had a system. Mia stood in the middle of the office, unsure what to do. 

“Would you like to sit down?” Karen asked, moving some files off of a chair by her desk. 

“Yeah, thanks,” she laughed lightly and sat down. 

“They get like this,” she explained, nodding her head at the two offices. “They get absorbed in the case and kind of forget about everything else.” 

“I’ve never seen Matt in his element,” Mia admitted. “I like it.” 

“Do you and Matt spend a lot of time together?” The secretary inquired carefully, not wanting to push any buttons. 

“Not really,” Mia said with a sigh, “and it’s my fault. I’m elusive and I don’t keep in touch and I don’t have a real job or a real apartment… But he’s always there when I need him. Like now. He bails me out of jail and takes me in whenever I ask without question. He’s a very good Catholic boy.” 

“I’ve gathered that about him,” Karen chuckled. 

“I don’t deserve him,” she smiled, looking away from the blonde.  _ I’m the world’s shittiest sister and he’s brother of the year.  _

“That can’t be true,” Karen patted the young girl’s hand. 

“Oh, it is.” 

Matt’s face twisted into a frown as he listened in from his office. He thought of all the times he’d picked up Mia when she was down and understood how she could think she owed him somehow, but she didn’t understand that she had given Matt what he needed in his most desperate hour. She was family when he had nothing. She had told him she was glad to know him. She took him into her tiny, damaged, seven year-old heart and trusted him to be her brother and, for that, he would be forever in debt to her. 

“Mia,” Matt called to his sister. “Could you come here?” The young brunette left her seat by Karen Page and strode into the small office. 

“What’s up?” 

“Have a seat,” he motioned in front of his desk where one small chair was placed. She nodded and sat. “You say you’ve spoken to your manager about this problem one on one?” She nodded again. “Okay. I need her number to arrange a sit down with her lawyer. We have to try to resolve this problem before we file a lawsuit.” 

“This is quite a process.” He laughed. 

“I know.” Mia got her phone out and found the number for her brother. 

“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in for you.” Matt handed his phone over to his sister. “The name is Gloria Clairmont.” 

“Thanks.” They sat for a moment and then Matt let out a small chuckle. “How come whenever I call you you never answer?” 

“I only pay my phone bill like twice a year,” she answered. 

“That is so irresponsible. How does Gloria ever contact you for shows?” Mia hesitated. 

“Um… I usually crash at her place.” The elder Murdock groaned. 

“How long have you been homeless?” Mia’s heart rate sped up. 

“Not that long.” 

“Please don’t lie to me.” She sighed. 

“About a year. Maybe more.” 

“And you never came to me for help?” The twenty-two year-old ran a hand through her hair and let out an anxious sigh. She hated talks like this. She hated facing the truth. 

“It was never that bad.” 

“What’s not that bad about being homeless?” His voice rose as he spoke and he immediately regretted it. Both Karen and Foggy turned their attention to the siblings. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re right.” Mia twiddled her thumbs. “I stayed with friends, I stayed with Gloria, I stayed in shelters. You found me and brought me in when I slept on the street sometimes.” 

“I assumed you’d been partying.” 

“No. Well, sometimes. If I’m being honest, a lot of my drunk and disorderlies were staged so I could sleep at the station.” 

“Why didn’t you ever just come to me?” For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why his sister refused to ask for help.  _ I’m not so different, actually,  _ he admitted to himself. 

“I didn’t want to drag you into my shitty life.” 

“I’m your brother! It’s my job to be involved in your shitty life.” She didn’t know how to make him understand. 

“Matty, we’re not super close‒ by no fault of your own‒ but I can’t help but feel that you’d be better off without me.” 

Mia looked down at her dirty whitewash jeans with distaste. She was no stranger to self hatred and didn’t pretend liked it wasn’t her closest ally. It kept her in check; it reminded her of her place. It sounded sad, but it was just a fact of her life. She thanked her father for a lot of her problems, but she knew who she was now was her own fault.


	5. Chapter 5

_ Mia and Matt had spent two whole years together at the orphanage in Hell’s Kitchen, growing almost completely dependent on each other. They were inseparable, at school and at home. Mia did her homework in Matt’s bedroom because he had one all to himself. Sometimes they had sleepovers on the weekends because neither of them really had any friends. So when Mia’s father, John “Two-Hands” Bellamy, a notorious gangster with both thumbs in very big pies, came to take Mia home, Matt didn’t know what to do.  _

_ “You’re leaving right now?” He asked, panic in his voice,  one hand clutching the shoulder of her worn pink sweater.  _

_ “I told him I don’t wanna go,” Mia said, the tone of her voice leading Matt to believe that tears were fast approaching. “I asked him to take you, too, but he said no.”  _

_ “That’s okay, Mia,” he knelt down to her level. “I’ll make sure we see each other. I’m not about to lose you again.”  _

_ “I don’t like him, Matty.” Her little voice cracked as she said her brother’s name and the dam broke in her eyes. The blind fifteen year-old pressed his sister to his chest as she wept.  _

_ “I’m fifteen,” he began. “In three more years I can be your legal guardian. That’s as long as we need to be together again. Who knows, maybe you’ll be back here by then.”  _

_ “I hope so,” she sniffled, pulling her head away to reveal her puffy eyes and red cheeks.  _

_ “At least give him a chance,” Matthew encouraged. “Maybe he’ll grow on you. Maybe you’ll love him.”  _

_ “I won’t love him as much as I love you.” He laughed sadly.  _

_ “Thank you. I could never love anyone as much as you.” The small Bellamy girl pressed a kiss to her brother’s cheek. “Come on. He’s probably waiting. I’ll take your bag.” Mia only had one small shoulder bag of belongings. When one lives the way these kids did, they never accumulated many things. Her only precious possession was a teddy bear Matt had gotten her for her birthday that year (he saved up his money for months to get it), which she held tightly in her arms. The pair ventured down the hallway until they reached the threshold where Two-Hands Bellamy stood.  _

_ “Hey, kiddo.” He had a faint Brooklyn accent and he didn’t bother bending down to meet his daughter’s eyes. “You ready to get outta here?” Matt handed the bag over to John and kissed the top of his sister’s head one last time.  _

_ “Take care of her,” Matt insisted, wishing he could get a look at the man taking his sister away.  _

_ “You got it, kid. Come on, Maya.”  _

_ “It’s Mia,” both siblings corrected at the same time.  _

_ “Whatever. Come on.” Two-Hands took Mia’s arm roughly and pulled her out the door. Sister McCarthy looked to the ground and then back to Matt.  _

_ “Don’t worry about her, Matthew. She’ll be taken care of.”  _

_ “Why’s he called Two-Hands?” Matt asked, even though he knew the answer: because all he needs to kill someone are his two bare hands.  _

_ “He is a respectable adult,” the nun scolded, “and he can take better care of her than we can. I know you’ll miss your sister, but she’ll be okay.” Matt seriously doubted that, but he kept his mouth shut.  _

_ Outside the orphanage, Mia’s father motioned for her to get inside his rickety BMW. “Hop in the front, kid,” he said, pulling his legs inside the vehicle and shutting the door in one fluid motion. Mia had never ridden in the front of a car before. In fact, she had only ridden in a car a few times. Hesitantly, but not wanting to keep Two-Hands waiting, she got in. The white door squealed loud enough to be a live pig as she swung it shut. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Mia stared at her father. “What am I doing? You're seven. You don't care.”  _

_ “I'm nine,” she squeaked out.  _

_ “Nine,” he tapped his temple, “right.” Two-Hands twisted the ignition key and then turned to his daughter. “Let’s get a look at ya.” Mia pulled her bear closer. “You look like your ma. How long ya been here?”  _

_ “I've been here for two years,” she answered. “But I've been living in orphanages as long as I can remember.” She would have said forever, but she remembered Matty telling her they'd lived together once.  _

_ “Jesus.” He rolled down his window to blow the smoke out and turned back to the wheel to pull out of the driveway. “I woulda got you sooner, but I thought you were with your mother. I shoulda known that broad wouldn't stick around.” Mia sat quietly. “Do you remember her at all?”  _

_ “Matty tells me about her sometimes,” she said.  _

_ “Matty, that's your brother?” She nodded. “Figures. Maggie was always a slut.” Mia didn't know what the word meant at the time, but that sentence followed her for the rest of her life.  _

_ Two-Hands Bellamy lived and worked in Washington Heights, it turned out, which was too far for Mia to visit her brother regularly‒ or at all. She didn't know it at the time, but her father had only taken her in because he’d recently found religion. When he lost it again a few weeks later, the attention Mia had grown accustomed to dissipated and was replaced by the constant reminder that he could kick her out at any time.  _

_ Mia longed for those distant Saturday night sleepovers; for her brother’s soothing voice; for the nuns that kept them in line. She missed the constant prayers for naughty children whispered down the halls. She missed cramped bedrooms and cracked windows and three square meals a day. But most of all, she missed the place she had come to call home. She didn’t know where she was anymore and a voice inside her whispered that she’d never find home again. _


	6. Chapter 6

“Mia, I’m going out to grab lunch for everyone. Do you want to come with me?” Karen asked. Mia had been in Foggy’s office answering a few case questions he had. “I could use a hand,” she laughed lightly. Mia glanced at Foggy for approval. 

“Go ahead,” he nodded. “I don’t have any more questions right now. Don’t forget Matt hates relish,” he reminded the ladies. 

“How could I? He throws a fit every time he eats it.” Karen chuckled at her own remark. 

“I do not throw a fit,” Matt hollered. “If you could taste as well as I can, you’d hate relish, too.” Mia grinned at the scene unfolding before her. She was known for her excellent banter, but it was never as warm as this. 

“No relish,” Karen recapped, grabbing her jacket and handing Mia hers. “I won’t forget this time.” Karen sounded sincere, but shot a wink at the younger woman. As they passed through the doorway, Mia patted herself down for money and felt anxiety bubble up in her stomach as she found none. “Don’t worry about paying,” she said, sensing the problem. “Lunch is on me and we can put dinner on Matt later.” 

“You’re a good person, Karen.” Mia instantly wished she hadn’t opened her mouth. She wasn’t good at sharing and probably should have left it unsaid. 

“What makes you say that?” The thin blonde looked her companion peculiarly. 

“I am an excellent judge of character. I know what shitty people are like.”  _ Why do I keep saying things like that?  _ The voice in Mia’s head begged her to keep quiet, like she always did.

“Can I ask a personal question?” 

“Shoot.” Mia braced herself for something invasive that she would have to skate around. 

“What happened to you and Matt? What’s your story?” Mia wrung her hands. 

“That’s a long one.” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Karen rushed to insist, “but we have time if you want to.” 

“Uh…” Mia weighed her choices. She was never one for sharing, but Karen was a friend of Matt’s, which made her trustworthy. And sometimes it’s easier to share things with people you don’t know so well. “Alright. Well, clif-notes version, we lived at the orphanage here in the Kitchen for a while, and then my dad came and got me. He lived in Washington Heights, so I never saw Matt anymore. And I couldn’t go back to the orphanage, even though I wanted to. It was so far away and the government didn’t want to have to pay for me if my dad could. By the time I was twelve and Matt was eighteen, he was going to college and I didn’t want to bother him.” 

“That’s so sad,” Karen whispered. 

“It’s my life. It’s okay. We reunited a few years ago but we never saw each other much. Until now, I guess.” 

“I’m sorry if you didn’t want to tell me.” 

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t want to.” Karen nodded. “What about you? Where are you from?” 

“I’m from Vermont,” the blonde told the brunette. “I had a regular, apple pie childhood.” 

“Straight-A student?” Mia shot a friendly grin at her companion. 

“How’d you guess?” 

“You’re the type. Just like my brother.” 

“Matt Murdock is something else,” Karen stated, awe in her voice. 

“Tell me about it. He can be tough to keep up with.” Mia thought about her brother in college. Sometimes, on a bad night, she’d take a cab up to his school and wait outside in hopes of seeing him. On the one occasion she actually did, she couldn’t bring herself to go up to him. He looked pretty happy. Foggy was with him. 

“I bet you can be tough to keep up with, too,” Karen insisted, setting a gentle hand on her upper arm. “I hear you’re quite the musician.” 

“Who said that?” Karen gave her a skeptical look. 

“Who do you think?” Mia grinned and looked to the ground. “He said you play every instrument.” 

“I can’t play brass,” she explained, “or the flute. But strings and woodwinds and piano are all pretty easy.” 

“That’s better than me. I am completely tone deaf.” 

“It’s a scientific fact that nobody is tone deaf,” Mia said. The secretary laughed at her. 

“I think science would make an exception for me.” Mia was sure Karen was underselling herself, but she didn’t press it. “How did you start playing?” 

“Public school,” she said. “I had a music teacher who let me stay late and play.”   

“Was that in Washington Heights?” 

“Yeah. That teacher was one of the only reasons I didn’t run away.” That sentence struck a cord in Karen. 

“What were the other reasons?” The pair stopped at an intersection and Mia waited until the light changed and they'd crossed the street to answer. 

“There was a girl,” Mia answered quietly. 

“Ah,” the blonde said knowingly. “There's always a girl. What was her name?” 

“Her name was Delilah. She wore flower crowns and white Converse and painted fields in the spring.” 

“She sounds lovely. What happened?” At last they arrived at the hole-in-the-wall deli they got lunch sandwiches from and Karen held the door open for Mia, who passed through quickly. The brunette stood quietly. She didn’t like to think about it. 

“We were young and very different people.” 

“Is there anyone in your life right now?” Mia laughed. 

“Barely.” Karen smiled in understanding. “Relationships aren’t exactly my strong suit, anyway. I’m not missing out on anything that great.” 

“They’re not my strong suit, either,” Karen admitted. They halted conversation while they ordered and Mia wondered if this was what normality was like. Walking down the street with a friend (not that she was sure she could call Karen a friend just yet), ordering food together, talking about their love lives. This was what people did. They didn’t worry about when their next meal would come or how they were going to pay for it. They split bills and hung out and talked about whatever was on their minds. Mia liked it. 

“Here, you can carry the bag,” Karen offered, knowing Mia would feel better if she were doing something. 

“My pleasure.” With four sandwiches in tow, they began the return trip. 

“When are you playing again?” Karen inquired. 

“Excuse me?” 

“When’s your next performance?”  
“Oh,” she said, comprehending her companion. “I haven’t been playing because of this whole manager ordeal. It’s kind of eating me alive, if I’m being honest. There’s nothing like playing a show. I’m addicted to that feeling, you know?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Karen admitted. “I’ve never liked performing or been any good at it.” 

“I had to warm up to it, too,” Mia admitted. “I felt exposed at first, but you don’t have to be yourself onstage. You don’t have to show them who you really are.” 

“Like acting?” 

“Yeah. Acting but with music.” The two walked in silence for a moment and Mia took the time to bookmark the differences between them. Karen was beautiful, blonde, thin, and well-kempt. Mia, on the other hand, was thin, that was true, but thin in a hungry kind of way, not a natural way. One look at Matt and Mia could tell she was built for muscle, but never had the chance or the drive to tone herself. So instead, she was tall and lanky. If Matt could see her, surely he’d tell her she needed more meat on her bones. Mia didn’t take care of herself and she wondered if she’d ever get to a place in her life where she did. 

“You should perform for us,” Karen suggested. 

“How do you mean?” 

“You can’t pay us for taking your case, but maybe we don’t have to work completely  _ pro bono. _ You could pay us with a private show!” Karen extended her arms in front of herself, clearly proud of the idea she had come up with. 

“I… I don’t know,” Mia stuttered. “I’m not that good, really. And where would we even hold a private show?” 

“At the office!” She exclaimed. “This is an excellent idea. Matt and Foggy are going to agree.” 

“I guess I could do that,” Mia agreed hesitantly. 

“Amazing!” In a moment of giddiness, Karen took Mia’s right hand and shook it. “It’s a deal. Almost,” she laughed. Mia laughed, too, but felt her hand tingling from the contact and went a bit rigid. Karen noticed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she uttered, wishing she could take it back. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” Mia reassured her companion. “It’s something I need to work on, anyway.” She couldn’t say,  _ “I just freak out everytime I’m touched because my dad used to hit me and everyone who holds my hand leaves me,”  _ because that sounded sad and she didn’t want Karen to pity her. 

“I’m still sorry,” she said, sincerely. “I should have asked.” Mia didn’t respond because, yes, she probably should have. 


	7. Chapter 7

Later that night after a fun and eventful dinner on Matt’s dime, the formerly estranged siblings headed back the the apartment they now shared. “Thanks again, by the way,” Mia said, feeling so grateful to her brother that she didn’t know what to do with herself. 

“I’ll always help you,” Matt told her, reaching out to take her hand. Mia, always uncomfortable with affection and unfortunately sober, squirmed out of her brother’s reach. When they arrived, Matt held the door for Mia and followed slowly after her, studying her. Something clicked in his mind when she didn’t want to take his hand and he wished he could un-click it. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” she volunteered. “I don’t want to steal your bed again.” 

“No, that’s alright,” he shook his head. “If you’re going to be staying here for a while, I’ll set a room up for you. I can move stuff around and have a bed in by tomorrow.” 

“You really don’t have to‒”

“You’re not going to be homeless anymore,” Matt decided, saying it sternly so she was sure to get the message. “And I like having you around.” 

“Okay.” Who could argue with that? 

“Mia, something’s on my mind and I need to talk to you about it,” he said, sitting down on the couch next to his baby sister. Alarms went off in Mia’s brain, telling her to get up and to ask if it could wait until morning and slip out the window while he slept. 

“Alright,” she agreed, against her better judgement. “What’s up?” Matt heard his sister’s heartbeat speed up. 

“Did Two-Hands ever… hurt you?” If Matt thought Mia’s heart was racing before, it must have been moving at the speed of light after. 

“Well, he…” Mia didn’t know what to say.  _ Yes, he hit me. He didn’t feed me. He locked me out of the house. He called me every cruel name under the sun.  _

“You don’t have to tell me, now or ever. But I know you don’t have people you can talk to and I want you to have me. This isn’t an ambush, it’s just,” he thought for a moment, “a notice. That you can talk to me about anything.” Mia’s eyes welled up with tears and for the first time in her life she was thankful her brother couldn’t see her. 

“Yes, he hurt me.” For such a small sentence, such a gargantuan weight was lifted off of her mind. Matt stretched out his hand. 

“May I?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” she whispered.  _ Everyone who holds your hand leaves you,  _ the voice in the back of her head reminded her, but this time, she wasn’t sure it was true. 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said, “and I’m sorry we lost touch. I promised you I’d take care of you and I… I just didn’t.” 

“You were a kid,” she shook her head. 

“You were a kid, too,” he insisted, “and you deserved to have a childhood.” She didn’t know what to do. No one had ever asked her if she was okay or told her they enjoyed having her around or wished she’d had a better childhood. So, in emotional shambles and without a clear answer as to what to do about it, she began to cry. Slowly at first and then more aggressively. Matt just held her and felt his heart break in two. When all the tears were gone, he carried her to his bed, tucked her in, and left the door open in case she needed him. 

Mia dreamed about the girl in the wheat field who used to paint while Mia played the cello. She dreamed that she hadn’t sabotaged that relationship the way she sabotages them all. She dreamed about all of the people she had loved and lost and never tried to have. 

Matt didn’t dream at all. Instead, he put on his suit and went to work the night shift. Much like his sister, he wasn’t very good at dealing with his emotions. Maybe it ran in the family. Maybe it was the Catholicism. 

The next morning, Mia stumbled out of her brother’s room, feeling distinctly hungover despite not having been drunk the night before, and saw him standing in the kitchen making coffee. She could get used to this. 

“How’d you sleep?” She asked him. 

“Like a baby,” he lied. He hadn’t slept at all, but felt as awake as ever. Matt, fresh from the shower and wearing only his pajama pants, had neglected to hide the fresh bruises on his torso. 

“What’re those?” She asked, suddenly alarmed. 

“What?” Mia raced over to her brother to get a closer look at his wounds. 

“Jesus, Matt, you’re covered in scars!”  _ Shit,  _ Matt thought. “You could give me a run for my money!” Mia instantly regretted saying it. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “Your scars are your business. I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s okay,” Matt insisted. “You’re allowed to worry about me.” 

“What’s for breakfast?” Mia asked, changing the subject. 

“There’s fresh coffee here and a bagel store down the street,” he grinned. “How’s that sound?” 

“Good,” Mia said. 

“If you want to come to the office with me today, we’ve got a little bit more work to do on your case and then you can leave.” 

“Okay, I’ll come in.” Matt smiled at his sister and reached for the disposable coffee cups he kept in the cupboard. Something weighed on Mia’s mind then and she thought it would probably mean something to share it with him. “Um… there’s something about Gloria that I haven’t told you.” Matt stopped. 

“Okay.” 

“Gloria and I were… more than friends.” Matt frowned.  _ Oh, god. He’s going to hate me now. He’s gonna tell me that being bi is a sin and he hates me and he’s going to kick me out and‒ _

“That might make the case a bit more difficult,” he said, placing a hand on his forehead. “Cases with romantic elements usually don’t get taken seriously.” Mia stood stone still, not sure what to do. 

“But you don’t care? That I’ve dated women?” Matt’s eyes widened, reacting to the realization that his baby sister just came out to him. 

“Oh, Mia, no,” he shook his head and set a hand on her upper arm. She didn’t flinch this time. “You’re allowed to love whoever you want.” She smiled shyly. 

“Thanks, Matty. I’m going to go put some pants on and then we can go. You’re gonna be late for work soon.” Matt grabbed his phone and it read the time to him. 

“Shit, you’re right.” The siblings both scurried to Matt’s room where Mia grabbed the same pants she’s been wearing for weeks and Matt skimmed his closet for suits. 

“How do you know what they all look like?” Mia inquired, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 

“I have braille tags on them,” he explained. “Plus, I try to buy everything in the same color, just in case.” 

“You’re smart. No wonder you went to college.” Matt chuckled. 

“You could go to college, too,” he said. Mia deflated. “I wouldn’t mind helping with the cost.” 

“No,” she shook her head. “Thank you, but no. Music is the only thing for me and I’ve never shined at school.” Matt dropped the subject.  _ College isn’t for everyone,  _ he reminded himself. 

Later, at the office, Matt, Foggy, Mia, and Karen conference called Gloria. It was not pretty. 

_ “It’s Gloria. What do you want?” _

“Hello, Miss Clairmont. My name is Matt Murdock and I’m here with Franklin Nelson. We’re representing Mia Bellamy in her legal dispute with you.” 

_ “That bitch got lawyers now?”  _ Gloria screeched. Mia winced. Their relationship had always been casual and noncommittal, but when Mia confronted her about the fraud, Gloria had snapped. Now she was furious and it made Mia want to shrivel up and die. Karen noticed and set a comforting hand on her forearm. This time, Mia didn’t flinch.  _ I’m getting better.  _ Her victory was short lived, however. 

“Yes, we’re her lawyers. We would like to try and settle your disagreement before we take anything to court.” This time it was Foggy who spoke. 

_ “Okay, fine. If Mia wants to hide behind lawyers, that works for me. What does she want?”  _ Mia couldn’t believe Gloria hadn’t denied them outright. There must be something to her accusation.  

“Miss Bellamy would like her contract with you cancelled and to be reimbursed for fifty percent of the missing profits,” Matt said. Mia shot Karen an anxious glance and the blonde squeezed her arm encouragingly. There was silence on the other line. “Miss Clairmont? Are you there?” 

_ “Yeah. You can tell her she’ll get her money and she’ll never have to see me again. _ ” 

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Foggy said. “We’ll send the settlement paperwork over for you to check and sign. Where can we reach you?” Gloria gave them her address and then hung up. 

“Well, okay, then,” Mia said, confused but relieved. “That went surprisingly well.” 

“I agree.”

“Celebratory burritos, anyone?” Foggy asked, raising a hand to the air. Everyone laughed. 

“Me!” Mia cried, her hand shooting up in the air. Matt gave her a strange expression, unaccustomed to any kind of outbursts from her. “I love burritos, Matt. You know that.” With all eyes on her, she shrunk back into herself. 

“No, I love burritos, too,” Karen said, trying to make Mia feel better. “Let’s order some.” 

“Sure,” Matt shrugged. “Why not?” Foggy called in the order and Mia offered to pick them up when the time came. Matt tried to go with her, but she shrugged him off. 

“You have work to do,” she explained. “I don’t have a job. And I don’t have money, either, so I need you to pay for lunch.” Begrudgingly, Matt gave his sister a twenty and set her loose on the world. Mia, for a moment, felt like she should kiss his cheek. She didn’t, but even the thought was interesting and new. Affection, openly, without cause. She liked it. 

The trek to the burrito place was short, but full of twists and turns. Two blocks from the office, Mia felt a pair of hands reach out and pull her into an alleyway. Terrified, the young Bellamy crouched into a fighting position and regretted her decision to leave Matt behind. The man behind the hands, however, did not come to fight. He came to chat. 

It was Two-Hands Bellamy.


	8. Chapter 8

Mia stared at her father blankly. Was he a ghost? A vision from the past, returned to drag her life back to shit? It seemed like the right time for divine intervention since she was just starting to enjoy being alive. 

“Hey, Mia, we gotta talk.” The man’s accent was masked by smoker’s grit and his fingers were yellow from years of rolling his own cigarettes. Mia felt physically sick from his touch and would have done anything to get away from him, but he inched closer and closer until he had her pinned against the brick. She wanted to push him away. She wanted to tell him to fuck off. But, instead, she just quivered silently. “I know you and me aren’t on the best of terms, but I have a job for you to do.” 

Anything from  _ you can stick your job up your ass  _ to  _ oh, do you? _ would have sufficed, but Mia stayed irrevocably silent. As always. She had years of training. 

“I’m in some trouble,” he said, noxious breath floating to her nose and lingering longer than breath should. “I just need you to go somewhere and distract some guys for me while I, uh,” he searched for the right word, “repossess a few items.” 

Looking at Two-Hands was like staring into a mirror from her severely damaged youth. After Mia had (barely) graduated high school, Two-Hands sent her on her way. “You earn your keep around here,” he told her. “If you’re not making money, you’re not living in my house.” So she left. She only saw him every once in a while, when he had requests much like this one to make. She had never turned him down and suspected she never would. Two-Hands had a way of twisting her guts without a single finger. Mia almost liked it better when he was beating on her. 

“W-where?” She finally managed to stutter out. 

“Chrystal’s,” he told her. “It’s kind of a classy joint, so dress up, would ya? Jesus, you always look like shit.” Finally, he released her, if only so he could gesture at her appearance for good measure. “Be there at eight, okay?” She was so stunned by him that she forgot to answer.  _ “Okay?”  _ Every fiber of her being told her to say no. 

“Okay,” Mia whispered.  _ Matt’s not going to like this. _

“Eight sharp,” Two-Hands reminded, walking away at last. “Chrystal’s. And take a shower. When was the last time you showered? Christ, I take a kid in, a teach her how to be an upstanding citizen…” His piercing voice faded off down the street. 

Slowly, Mia reached a hand up to massage where he’d gripped her arm. It would probably bruise. Stupefied by the man she had the infinite pleasure to call her father, she managed to put one foot in front of the other and step back into the street. Tripping over her own, two, useless feet, she had to grip the wall to remain upright. Her hands were shaking. 

_ Burritos,  _ she reminded herself, but the thought of eating made her nauseous. Still, she had a responsibility, so she shuffled down the busy afternoon street to pick up their order. 

The upbeat air of Nelson & Murdock felt so distant to her and she was reminded of the awful truth that she had been homeless just two nights before and, if she did what Two-Hands wanted, she would probably be back where she started. She couldn’t go. It would eat Matt alive if he ever found out about the sketchy, back-street activities she had done for her father.  _ Some father. _ Mia absentmindedly rubbed a scar on the back of her neck. 

So, what if she didn’t go? Well, she’d have the wrath of John “Two-Hands” Bellamy to deal with which, to her own personal experience, was not to be taken lightly. Two-Hands would probably track her back to Matt’s and beat her until she died. Under normal circumstances, Mia wouldn’t be so terrified of that outcome, but she didn’t want her brother to come home one day and find her, dead, on his couch. That could fuck a person up forever. 

Mia drifted in and out of the restaurant and back toward the law office. Thinking about spending time with those people‒ those wonderful, caring, people she could put in danger simply by existing‒ made her want to retch almost as much as her father. 

Memories of her father flooded her brain. Retchid memories; the kind you only remember in nightmares. Pounding fists and broken plates and tender flesh to be masked by sunglasses and concealer. Long sleeves in the summer and sunglasses at night and always fidgeting, wondering when the next blow would come. And Mia had  _ just  _ stopped flinching every time she was touched. 

_ Two steps forward, one step back _ . 

Before she knew where she was, she was stepping into the office. 

“Mia, are you alright?” Karen asked, startled by the girl’s pallor and slow gait. Mia just “hmm”ed and dropped the burritos on her desk. She wanted to flop into the chair by Karen’s desk, but Mia’s skin felt hot and sensitive and she just wanted to jump into the bay and never resurface. Instead, she hefted her cement feet into her brother’s office and leaned her weight against the doorframe. 

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, concerned. Her heart rate was spiked and her breaths were shallow. 

“I think I’m going to head back to the apartment,” she said, avoiding his question. 

“Sure.” Mia turned to leave, but he stopped her. “Wait, come in here. Close the door.” Sluggishly, she did as he asked. “Did something happen while you were gone?” Her mind was screaming to  _ fucking escape already,  _ but she held her composure, if only externally. 

“No.” Instantly, Matt knew she was lying. 

“You can tell me anything. I mean it. You don’t have to hide things from me.” 

“I’m fine.” It was another lie, and Mia could practically feel her brother’s disbelief, but she had other things, like  _ staying alive  _ to worry about. 

“That’s it, then,” he shrugged. “Do you need anything before you go?” Mia hated asking for money, but she did. She had to look nice tonight. Matt just handed over a credit card. Mia wanted to vomit. She didn’t say goodbye to anyone on her way out. When the fresh air hit her hot face, she finally felt free. 

Mia’s flight instinct was kicking in, full force, but she had to stick around, right? Matt was opening his life to her, like he always did, and she was behaving like a leech. She was sucking on his finances and draining him personally and she’d just leave in a few months. Anxiety welled up in her throat until she had to either puke or smash her head against the wall until she died, so she chose the former. She retched on the sidewalk and left it for the city to clean. 

The taste of vomit still on her tongue, Mia went to the cheapest store she could find that sold cocktail dresses and found a little red one that went perfectly with her dark hair and sickly frame. If she ever got her life together, she really needed to start eating vegetables and working out. Afterward, she bought matching shoes, a few more outfits for herself, and went home. 

_ Home. What’s that?  _

When she was little, home was wherever Matt was. When she left him at the orphanage, she thought she’d find a home with Two-Hands, but she just found fresh agony and longing. She’d found a home in music when she was in high school and supposed that was as close as she’d come for a long time. After all, home is where the heart is, and Mia’s heart was scattered in a thousand pieces around the city. 

Mia and all of her despair were laying on Matt’s couch with her new dress draped over her body and a beer in her hand when he got home. “I’m glad you helped yourself to the beer,” he said, leaning his cane against the wall and dropping his suit jacket on the back of the couch by her head. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” The elder brother took a seat by her feet, jolting her out of her buzzed reverie. A distinct ruffling sound caught his attention. “Is that a dress?”

“I’m going out tonight,” she informed him. 

“Oh?” His voice raised an octave and his back straightened. “With whom?” Mia shuffled the cards in her mind, trying to find an answer that wouldn’t raise too many questions. 

“I ran into an old friend,” she decided was a decently honest lie. “I’m doing them a favor.” 

“In a dress?” Matt’s eyebrows raised. 

“A favor in a dress,” she confirmed, and pulled herself into a sitting position. Her stomach still churned, even hours later, but the alcohol was doing its trick to calm her nerves. “I have to start getting ready.” It was only five o’clock, if that, but Mia excused herself early to avoid further questioning. 

The young brunette hopped in the shower and scrubbed herself from head to toe, Two-Hands’s voice ringing in her ears. When she was done, she, to her everlasting shock, found a blowdryer and round brush under Matt’s sink. Wondering how he possibly does his hair in the morning, she dried and smoothed.  _ I should’ve bought makeup,  _ she scolded herself, but was quickly reminded that she had never actually used makeup in her life and this was definitely not the night to start. 

Mia put on her dress and stared at her reflection. She could be pretty, she decided, if fate were kinder. The young Bellamy supposed that her disconcerting outward appearance might correlate to her constant internal distress. She just hoped she would do as a decent enough distraction.


	9. Chapter 9

Two-Hands Bellamy was waiting, standing in a small shrub, when Mia arrived at Chrystal’s. The restaurant was a hangout spot for the filthy rich and the filthy criminal. “At least you classed up,” he said, scanning her up and down. Clearly, he had been waiting impatiently for a good amount of time, despite the fact that Mia was five minutes early. “Here’s the deal.” He instructed his daughter with his hands, pointing in the window he was lurking next to. “I just need you to keep those guys busy and make sure they don’t go anywhere near the back room. When I’m clear, I’ll give the signal.” The men Mia was supposed to entertain were Asian, probably Japanese.  _ This could be difficult. _

“What’s the signal?” She asked, voice low, glancing back at her father. 

“Christ, kid, you’re killing me,” Two-Hands cried, waving his yellow hands in the air. “You’ll know the signal when you see it.” Mia nodded. “Now get in there. Do whatever it takes.” With a less than gentle shove, Mia was inside Chrystal’s.

The music was smooth, but it didn’t calm Mia. Making an executive decision, she headed for the bar. She was always calmer with a drink in her hand. She gave it a moment before she went anywhere near her targets. If she headed straight over there, they’d know she came for them. Instead, she played it cool, eyeing them and making flirtatious gestures.

When Mia was on missions like these, she had an alter ego she liked to employ. Her name was Stella Despereaux. Stella’s family was wealthy. She spent her Christmases in the Swiss Alps and drank top shelf vodka and had an endless number of illicit affairs. Everyone she’d ever lain a finger on was in love with her. 

This imaginary woman gave Mia strength and courage. The Japanese men on the other side of the bar were interested, she thought, but unlikely to make a move. They looked pretty engaged with each other, which meant it was Mia’s job to infiltrate the herd. 

_ Which card do I play?   _

Slowly, she approached, drink in hand. Using the technique she perfected years ago, she spilled her beverage on the man she guessed was in charge. He cried out, surprised by the cold, and Mia‒ no, Stella‒ feigned shock. 

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” She fawned, snatching up the nearest napkin and trying to clean the mess. “I’m just such a clutz and I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’ve really had a very stressful day and‒” 

“Enough,” he cut her off, strong Japanese voice rippling throughout the restaurant. Mia froze.  _ I’m busted. _ “It is alright. Please, take a seat. I will have your drink refilled.” He motioned for someone to get her a chair. Smiling and forcing a blush, Mia sat down.  _ Maybe not.  _

“Thank you,” she cooed, brushing his arm with her hand. “You’re so kind. I can’t believe I got you all messy. And at a  _ business meeting!” _

“Business can always wait for a beautiful woman,” the man told her with a smile. Internally, Mia was laughing at being called beautiful. She guessed she looked about as beautiful as a circus clown in a bright red blow-up suit. “What is your name?” 

After a moment’s hesitation, Mia said, “Stella Despereaux. What’s yours?” 

“You may call me Itsuki.” His smile was weaker that time, and she feared her hesitation had given her away. Mia spared a moment to glance around the dinner table at the other patrons. Most of them were big, burly Japanese fellows, with the exception of one tiny redheaded man. 

“So, Itsuki, what do you do?” Flashing her pearly whites and setting another hand on his arm, she felt the anxiety swell up within herself. His face instantly hardened. 

“Let’s not talk about business,” he decided.  _ So he’s in the mob,  _ Mia concluded. “Tell me about yourself. Why are you here all alone?” It unsettled Mia slightly that no one else was speaking. 

“I was supposed to meet my father here,” she explained, “but I fear he’s been detained.” 

“Who is your father? Might I know him?” Itsuki’s eyes set on her intently. 

“Pierre Despereaux. He deals in art.” Mia was fully aware of the fact that Pierre Despereaux was a character from  _ Psych _ , but she was thinking on the spot. Pierre could have a daughter named Stella for all she knew. To be honest, Mia would rather have Fake Human Pierre Despereaux as a father than Two-Hands. 

“I think I have heard of him,” Itsuki said, nodding in understanding. 

“Oh!” Mia’s shocked exclaim slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. Itsuki eyed her warily. “I’m just surprised you’ve heard of him. He’s been keeping more of a low profile lately.” 

“I understand,” he bowed his head slightly. One of the men at the table rose and Mia watched as he headed for the door she was supposed to be keeping them from. 

“Wait!” She shouted, once again calling the attention of the whole restaurant. She began to sweat anxiously. “I, uh… You should come back to the table.” Itsuki frowned. 

“Why is that?” He inquired, leaning toward her. 

“The… the table is, uh… we have an odd number now-” Mia didn’t have to finish her sentence, thankfully, because the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen himself flew backward out the back door and into the restaurant. “What the fuck?” 

The men Mia was sitting with started shouting in Japanese, and the second she saw a gun pulled, she dropped to the floor. Bullets started flying at the Daredevil and he dodged them all gracefully, but Mia’s heart was beating faster than it ever had and her flight response was freaking the fuck out. Mia decided a good plan was to army crawl across the restaurant and hide behind the bar. Once she was in the middle of the firefight, she realized what a horrible plan that had been. 

_ All I do is make bad choices. _ Not knowing what else to do, Mia curled up in the fetal position and prayed. She’d been an atheist since she left the orphanage and Two-Hands taught her miracles were fake, but she clasped her hands and prayed. 

_ Matty, I’m sorry. Please, don’t let Matt find me dead. Keep Matt safe. Let him grieve gently.  _

The bullets stopped flying and Mia looked up to see the Devil punch out the last of the Japanese men. The sprinkler system went off and, in Mia’s peripheral vision, Two-Hands crept out the front door. She guessed the sprinklers were supposed to be her signal. Facing the Daredevil who was inching toward her, she sucked in her breath and held it. He took off a glove, reached out, and touched her face. 

“Mia?”  _ The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knows me?  _ “Mia, what are you doing here?” The voice was strikingly familiar, and Mia, facing her fears, released her breath and got a good look at the man’s uncovered chin. 

“Matt?” It seemed her brother had just realized that he’d metaphorically unmasked himself on accident and took a step back. “How the fuck are you the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” 

“Clearly, we need to have a conversation.”  

_ “How the fuck are you the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” _ Matt, sensing the epic level at which he’d screwed up, took a single step backward.


	10. Chapter 10

_ “Do you think we’ll ever be separated?” Mia asked. The siblings were hiding in a blanket fort in Matt’s room, shining a flashlight against the sheet to make shadow puppets. Matt wasn’t sure what he was doing, but Mia was laughing and that was enough for him. _

_ “Of course not,” he said, shaking his head. “Who would separate siblings?” Matt knew it happened all the time, but Mia didn't, so he hoped he could spare his sister some worry.  _

_ “What if…” Her tiny voice faded off as she scrunched up her eyebrows in thought. “What about when you're eighteen? And you have to leave?”  _

_ “I'll take you with me,” he decided. “I'm going to be your legal guardian.”  He liked using words like that that meant something. ‘Legal guardian’ just sounded so professional.  _

_ “What does that mean?” Mia’s tiny voice reverberated up to Matt’s ears and he reached out to take her little hand.  _

_ “It means I'm going to take care of you. It means we’ll be a family and no one will take you away from me.”  _

_ Matt was the first person who held her hand and left her.  _


	11. Chapter 11

Mia, alone on the street, looked around and found nothing worth seeing. Maybe her brother’s disability was more of a blessing. He never had to see the trash on the street or the girls with bruises by their eyes or the men in trench coats who think they're being sneaky. But, she supposed, he knew they were there. 

Mia had always known Matt wasn't a  _ normal _ blind person‒ that he could walk without his cane and had trained at his father’s gym‒ but she never  _ imagined _ that he was a  _ vigilante.  _

“Let’s go home,” Matt had pleaded in the alley behind Chrystal’s. “We can talk this over. I know you're freaked out, but-” 

“Matty, stop,” she said quietly, holding out one hand. “I don't know what I feel.” Matt stood, waiting. “I just need to think. Give me some time to think, okay?” 

“Okay,” he obliged, nodding and stepping back. 

“I love you,” she reassured him. “I’ll see you at home.” And she turned and left.  _ Home. I still don’t know what that means. _

What had happened to her brother while they were apart that had turned him into a fighter? Battlin’ Jack was probably rolling in his grave. Mia needed to think. She needed to process. 

She walked toward a bar. Knowing it was a terrible, terrible idea did not deter her in the slightest. She already had some alcohol in her system and  _ really  _ needed to stop drinking.  _ I should turn around.  _

She stepped inside. Sat down on a stool. Opened her mouth to order. And then she got up and left. Leaving, however, only made her feel worse. Hot tears pulled at the corners of her eyes, materializing out of nowhere, begging to escape. Only one or two rolled out, though, when she finally blinked. 

Her feet began moving and before she knew where she was going, she was at an apartment door with a half-missing black number she’d seen too many times. Stretching out one, shaking fist, she knocked. After a few seconds of shuffling heard from the other side of the door, it swung open to reveal Gloria Clairmont. “Jesus fucking christ,” was all she said before shutting the door in Mia’s face. Mia, stunned but not surprised, did not move. Gloria reopened the door just five seconds later and stared her former friend straight in the face. “What are you doing here, freeloader?” 

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. Mia, with her still shaking hands, fiddled with the lining of her dress and bit the inside of her lip. Something was jumping around inside of her and she needed to run or drink or fuck the  _ anxietyangerdesirerestlessness _ out of her. 

“Where’re your lawyers?” Gloria’s tone was crisp and Mia just wanted to hear the smooth sounds she made when she was pleased with a song or being kissed on the earlobe. 

“I don’t know why I came here. I should go. I’m sorry.” Mia turned to go but Gloria caught her arm. 

“Do you want some wine?” Her voice was finally softening and, yes, Mia did want wine. She wanted to go inside Gloria’s apartment and drink wine and make love and go right back to where she started‒ where she was comfortable. But she had gone to her brother’s office to make a change in her life and she couldn’t sabotage all of his good work. Mia slid her arm down until her hand was inside Gloria’s. 

“Why did you steal from me?” Mia decided to ask, their fingers locked together. Gloria coughed. 

“Mia, we’re not going to discuss this‒” 

“Why did you steal from me?” Her voice was firmer now and Gloria could tell the woman meant business. The manager stared at her former client, eyes filled with an awe and respect that had never been there before, and decided this girl was worth the truth. 

“Because you’re an easy target,” she said. “Because I didn’t think you’d notice the difference. Because I thought that even if you did, you’d never have the balls to take it to a lawyer.” Mia blinked, taken aback by such blunt words. Gloria took three steps forward until their foreheads were touching. “I stole from you because you let me.” Their hands slipped apart, falling back to the women’s sides. 

“I could have loved you, I think,” Mia admitted. It was her final goodbye to an old, old friend. 

“I think I probably did once.” With not as much as a wave farewell, Gloria Clairmont shut her apartment door once more and Mia strode slowly, thoughtfully, back onto the sidewalk. Maybe it was time for her to figure out what she was really feeling. Stalking down the street, lit up with billboards and OPEN signs and fluorescent lights, Mia lifted her head to the sky and delved deep. 

She wasn't angry with Matt, that much she knew, but for some reason she felt hurt. Betrayed, maybe. But she kept secrets from him, too. Not secrets the size of his, no, but she sure didn't tell him  _ everything.  _ Still, she was allowed to be upset, right? This was  _ huge _ news, after all, and Mia was not known for handling change with grace. Lost in the abyss of her own thoughts, she didn’t notice the man coming out of the building next to her and slammed right into him. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m so-” she paused, recognizing him. “Sorry! I’m sorry, Foggy.” Mia glanced up, seeing her brother’s office. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“It’s no big deal,” he shrugged. “I wasn’t either.” He looked behind the young woman, searching for her sibling. “I thought you were going out with Matt tonight. He told me he couldn’t stay late at the office because he was doing something with you.” 

“Oh,” Mia shrugged. “Yeah, we were out together,” she said, not totally lying, “but we, uh…” She sighed. 

“Let me guess,” Foggy interceded. “You got in a fight?” 

“Yeah. Sort of.” Foggy smiled in understanding, having been in enough fights with Matt Murdock to last a lifetime. 

“Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?” Mia cringed. “Or a burger?” Foggy said, sensing Mia’s discomfort. 

“I could use a burger,” Mia decided. 

“Great.” The two continued down the street together, walking slowly. “Why the fancy getup?” Foggy asked. He was the first person since she left Chrystal’s to question her. “Why is that nice dress all torn up? Wait, did something happen?” 

“No, no… Well, yes. But it doesn’t matter.” Mia shook her head and pulled at the collar of her dress. “I just… Matt lied to me.” She wasn’t sure why she’d decided to confide in Foggy. He was just there and she needed to talk to someone. That was why she’d gone to Gloria’s, but that meeting had gone in a far different direction than she’d anticipated. She hoped her conversation with Foggy didn’t go that way, too. 

“Yeah, he does that.” 

The brunette scrunched up her eyebrows. “I thought you two were best friends. He’s lied to you?” 

“Matt Murdock lies to everyone at one point or another,” he said. “He can’t help it. He’d got big secrets and he’s bad at sharing. I found out this crazy thing about him a while ago. I freaked out. But Matt’s not going to stop being who he is, so at some point, you just have to accept it and deal or move on.” 

“What did you find out about him?” Mia prayed that he knew what she knew. He glanced sideways at her. 

“If you know the same thing that I know, then we both know we shouldn’t say it.” The musician nodded. “Let’s just leave it at Matt knows what he’s doing.” Foggy’s words were encouraging. “I hope.” Mia snorted. 

“Thanks, Foggy. It means a lot.” The pair strolled up to the burger joint and the lawyer held the door for the younger girl. 

“Anytime. You’re basically my sister, too, you know, so feel free to come to me about anything. Except boy advice. I won’t be any good at that.” It was a hole-in-the-wall fast food place, so he ordered two burgers, paid, and they stood off to the side to wait. 

“What about girl advice?” She asked cheekily. 

“I won’t be any good at that either,” he admitted mournfully. After they were served, Foggy gave one last piece of advice (“Don’t ever listen to a girl who tells you she can get you she can get steak half-off that’s as good as full price. She can’t.”) and sent her home. 

_ Home.  _ She was getting more comfortable with that term and wondered if she was finally figuring out what it meant. 


	12. Chapter 12

Mia Bellamy, young and skinny and once desperate but feeling enlightened, opened the door to her brother’s apartment and stepped slowly inside. He was laying on the couch, half asleep, in his pajamas when she saw him. “Mia!” He cried, jolting awake. “You’re home!” 

“I’m home.” She rolled the word around on her tongue and sat down beside him, setting a secure hand on his knee. “Before you say anything else, I just want you to know that I understand why you do it. The vigilante thing.” 

“You do?” Desperation lined his words and he tipped his ears toward his sister’s voice. 

“The world’s a fucked up place and you want to help. You’ve done great things as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen-”

“Daredevil,” Matt interrupted. 

“-as Daredevil,” she chuckled, correcting herself. “I’m proud of you. You’re definitely going to get shot,” she insisted, and Matt smiled, “but I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you. I was worried that you’d,” he paused, “leave.” Her heart clenched as her brother blinked twice, trying not to get teary eyed. 

“Where would I go?” She asked with a joking tone but completely serious. “No, but you did promise me a bedroom,” she reminded, “and, no offense, but I don’t trust you to pick the color scheme.” 

“Very funny,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t, either,” Matt admitted. “I’m glad you’re not leaving. I’m really starting to enjoy having you around.” 

“I’m really starting to enjoy being around.” 

“Did you see Foggy tonight, by chance?” The elder Murdock asked, lifting his head to try and track whatever he was smelling. 

“I did, actually,” she told him. “He bought me a burger. He’s a good guy.” 

“He’s the best,” Matt confirmed. “And I thought I smelled burgers, but it could have been from anywhere.” 

“So how exactly does this vigilante thing work, by the way?” Mia wondered aloud, her interest piqued by his mention of his senses. “Do you have a super sniffer or something?” 

“All of my remaining senses are heightened,” he informed her. “It happened when I was blinded, I think.” 

“Do you go out every night?” Now that the idea of him being a vigilante had sunk in, her mind was flooded with worries. 

“I try to. Do your best not to worry about me, Mia,” he told his charge, sensing her oncoming panic. “I haven’t been killed yet.” 

“‘Yet’ being the operative word,” she emphasized, glaring at her brother. “Do you have a secret lair or is this your home base? I would highly suggest getting one if you don’t have one. If people see Daredevil go into your apartment every night, they’ll start to get suspicious. And I don’t want to be woken up all hours of the night by crazy criminals who managed to find out where you live. I’m not nice when I don’t sleep and-” 

“I’m careful,” he insisted, cutting his sister off. 

“Sure, you’re careful now, but one of these days, you’ll get lazy and-”

_ “I’m careful,” _ he repeated. She sighed. 

“Okay. I trust you,” Mia decided. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long night.” Her brother thanked her one last time for being so understanding before she went to sleep in his bed for the third time. 

When she woke up the next morning, she had a bed all her own and a bedroom to keep it in. The siblings went to the store to pick out sheets and decorations. “It’s going to be classy as heck,” she insisted as she set a stainless steel lamp in the shopping cart. 

“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” Matt laughed. 

After their shopping trip, Mia, good on her word, performed for the employees of Nelson & Murdock as payment. They set up a fake stage (Karen’s desk) for her to perch on (she sat. Her head kept hitting the ceiling) as she played.

“This song is called  _ Holey Soles _ , but you may know it alternatively as  _ Thank You Nelson & Murdock for Not Asking Me to Pay Money.” _  As she strummed, she looked out at the three loyal faces that had introduced her to a better way of life. Mia was grateful that the only thing she could provide them with was pleasing them. Their smiles meant the world to her. 

Matt closed his eyes as he listened. She must have gotten her talent from some recessive gene of Two-Hands’s, he thought, because he wasn’t half as gifted as his sister.  Her voice, gruff and sharp, had a soothing quality in it that made any listener trust her lyrics. 

When she finished playing, the office granted her a standing ovation. “You are incredible!” Foggy cheered, clapping. 

“Amazing,” Karen told her, grinning. 

For the first time in her life, she thought,  _ maybe I am.  _

Matt didn’t say anything. Instead, he sat quietly with a dumb smirk on his face, wondering how he got so lucky to have a sister like her. He didn’t know that she wondered the same thing every time he smiled.


End file.
